


Sitting on the Lap of Luxury (and his Lover)

by CaptainFreeman



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Talk, John just doesn't know what to do, M/M, PWP, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, and Mycroft really just doesn't give a crap what happens, bottom!John, mystrade, oh but good ol' Lestrade would love to help, virgin!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainFreeman/pseuds/CaptainFreeman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where uncertainty follows John not-Gay Watson even into the bedroom, as he nervously stumbles himself into some hot times.<br/>Fortunately, Greg is there to help, and what would a good story be, without a sly Mycroft?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw a prompt on the kink meme a looong, long time ago for an inexperienced John being taught by Lestrade to ride Mycroft. I cannot seem to find it's origin, but, with hope, whoever posted that can find this. c:

"Hey, calm down. Slowly, John, this isn't a race. We've all night."

 Yes- how did things come to this point? A few drinks had him tipsy, but, so were his friends. Besides, he could still make good judgement, even if he had flirted just a tiny bit too much. Then the couple had taken it the wrong way (or moreso the right), and now here they were. An eleborate bedroom was to their use, all their own, filled of silky blankets and soft pillows that probably cost more than eight hours worth of work.

 God, what a nice time to be part of the government.

 "I know.. I just. Er, never really done this with.. y'know. A bloke before."

 Awkwardly, the medic stumbled over each word, each syllable, and he heard an interested hum come from behind him. Suddenly, oh how suddenly, hands were wrapping around him, then gently undoing the buttons to his shirt, while Lestrade watched approvingly. Very,  _very_  approvingly. 

 "That's fine. As long as you can tell me something. Now think, Watson, think."

 At a time like this, he did not imagine that using his brain was a possibility, and the medic only peered up with a nervous expression, nearly forgetting to breathe as Mycroft finished his fasteners, running his pale hands over the tanned, muscled skin of one John Watson.

 Right. Thinking.

 "Do you really want this?"

 Someone was pulling him backwards, and it took the doctor a moment before he realized it was the elder Holmes brother, sitting him upon his lap atop the bed. Woah there, a certain politician was excited, as he could feel the hard bulge even through all the fabric between them. Fancy work trousers, boxers, the works. It made him blink in surprise, missing the question entirely. He was sitting on Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft Holmes was pressing kisses to his neck. Lestrade was looking stern.

 "Oi, are you even paying any attention? I'm asking if you want this."

 Yes. A thousand times yes. Of course he did, and they could not stop now, not when his bottoms were tenting with desire, his pupils blown in absolute lust. Right as he was verging on giving a response, however, a determined Mycroft nibbled hard into the crook of his neck, and he positively melted backwards with mild surprise, yet appreciation all the same.

 "I believe that would be our answer, Gregory."

 A rumbling baritone from behind him informed, and John only nodded with whatever sense he had left, feeling stupid yet pleasured all the same. 

 Things turned mad after that. Something primal had risen in the three of them, and not one man wanted to ignore it. Greg had initiated the flame- growling, leaning in and pulling in Mycroft for a rough, dirty kiss, while his hands moved to palm a squirming John through his boxers. A groan, but from whom, was the mystery. Right now it was more of an exploration, and the medic was not convinced as to how it happened, but soon he was lying on the bed, Greg to his right, and Mycroft to his left, as they towered over his sprawled figure.

 Quick fingers were undoing his trousers, yanking all fabric free from his legs in one go. Impressive, he mused, though the cold chill of air to his skin was very sobering, enough that he arched up. The move had been calculated well, however, and before he could react, one Mycroft Holmes was bending down, pressing hot lips to even hotter skin, trailing up and down the chest of their temporary captive- a willing captive, at that.

 "Mm.. God, John, never told me you were hiding this nice body under those jumpers. Myc and I would've loved to have gotten a nibble sometime sooner."

 Lestrade, that had to be, his tone far more of a taunt than anything else, as the DI finished removing his own clothes. That only left his real partner, his true lover, but that could come soon enough. For now, he focused on John, reaching down to give his friend a few strokes to his aching cock. It was a very lovely one. 

 "O-oh! I.. You never asked."

 Came the mindless response, right as Mycroft began to suckle on a nipple, tongue flickering over it's dimples, before his lips closed around its' skin, nipping and mouthing until it turned red. There was a chuckle from Greg, who seemed content to watch his lover work on melting the blogger to a pool.

 "Perhaps we shall. Next time."

 Holmes finally spoke, and then there was nothing for the doctor, only a chill of lonesomeness as both men had pulled away. Clothing. Damn them to Hell, it was making him wait with patience. Something that, at this point in time, John had very little of. And why should he?

 A few whimpers escaped the medic unbeknownst to himself, and apparently they were heard, as a concerned DI shifted his weight back onto the bed, inching closer. Yes, the first time could be difficult, especially needing to wait. Minutes fluttered by, but those were only false. Minutes were actually seconds, the sly bastards.

 "Shh, John, yah? You're fine. You're okay."

 Capable hands caressed over his body- and luckily for everyone, Mycroft was quick to return, fully undressed. John failed to notice him placing that of a lubricant tube into the hand of his partner, and only watched as the older brother rolled away, splaying himself on his back besides him. It was an interesting sight, indeed. All long limbs, and of course there was some pudge, but overall it was an unmistakable canvas of milky skin. Save for the possession marks up his neck, no doubt from Lestrade, the silly git.

 "John, roll onto your stomach. I'm going to prepare you, is that okay?" 

 One hasty nod later, and the doctor had obeyed, switching his attention to the duty at hand. Preparation. Right, they would do this anally, and that meant he had to be opened up, right? The anxiety was coming back, he could feel it, muscles tense while Greg squeezed lube onto his fingers, making sure to use plenty.

 "I'll start with one finger. You'll be okay.. It'll feel weird, I'll admit, but I promise everything will get better."

 And, yes, did it feel weird. That could only describe it, as the silver fox ran his firm hands over the bum of an awaiting doctor, only to slip a digit between his cheeks. It nudged its' way further in, and further, and suddenly he felt the stretch, and it felt so terribly outlandish that it made him wonder why people did this. 

 Obviously his nerves were showing, as Lestrade was leaning down, planting worrisome kisses up his spine, while a hand ran through the blonde fringes atop his head. It could not be from his drinking buddy- Mycroft, then, gripping his hair just enough to make him alert.

 That was when Greg added another finger in, and really began to work the groaning, shuddering medic open. It was exposing, yet blissful, and God, the night could last an eternity for all he cared.

 It could last even longer than that, and John would not mind. 

 


	2. Part Two

 Unfortunately the bliss could only last so long, and that was a fact John Watson was not entirely aware of. The finger inside of him remained thick, short yet wide enough to make him feel raunchily open. A singular digit had soon multiplied, though, and without his voicing, there were three fingers beginning to fuck him against the bed. Moaning, squirming, and rutting against whatever was below him, the doctor paid little attention to the words surrounding him.

 "I believe he is prepared." 

 Mycroft grumbled. Impatiently.

 "Oi, let me enjoy watching him a bit more. It's sexy. Have some restraint, Myc!"

 The two were murmuring between each other, and, that was when the politician launched his attack. Soon, he was clambered partially over John, lips wet as a very heated, demanding kiss was shared between Gregory and himself. It was not chaste, oh, just the opposite indeed. They were both on edge, wanting more and growing more aroused by the moment. Unconsciously, as it had to be without knowing, the hand inside John's body increased its' pace, eagerly pounding into the army doctor's all-too-willing hole. 

 "Nngh.. oh! O-oh God, Christ!"

 An eager John groaned, as his prostate must have been found. That certainly grabbed everyone's attention, and Mycroft pulled off his partner, moving to the side and not to be seen. In honesty, the doctor probably could have figured out what the elder brother was doing, but at the moment he was too busy responding to a husky Greg murmuring soft words in his ears.

 "Yeah, you like that, don't you? So dirty, taking my fingers in that tight hole.. I told you it would feel good, didn't I?"

 Oh, and how John did do everything in his power to eagerly nod, thrusting his hips backwards. Except- there was now a hand gripping them tightly. Holding him in place.

 "Are you ready? John? Do you think you can take a cock now?"

 Another nod, but, evidently that was less than satisfactory. 

 "Tell me, John. Are you ready?"

 "Oh.. God, yes, yes, please, let me take a cock, I.. I want to try it. I want.. I want to feel full."

 Soon, before his knowing, a contented hum had left the DI, and he pulled out his digits from John, taking a momentary pleasure from the resistance he felt. As if the medic's body was trying to keep the weight inside its' hot, dense heat. God, that was hot. Though, there was a task at hand, and, he knew not to get distracted. Gregory took in a shaky breath, sharing a firm glance to Mycroft.

 By now, the politician had his cock slicked up, throbbing and ready, as he laid on the bed, sprawled out. A great part of Lestrade just wanted to ravish him there- oh, but, he needed to care for John. It was his first time, after all, and this needed to be perfect, needed to not flop, needed to be a mindblowing experience. 

 "Alright, John? Straddle Myc's hips. Chop chop, hurry."

 The moment that the blogger obeyed, Gregory planted himself right behind the doctor, who was trembling. Fear? Anticipation? Excitement? Either way it would do no good, as John clenched every muscle he had in his body, shakily letting out a few breaths. Gently, the DI, wanting to soothe the anxiety, began pressing desirous kisses up upon John's neck. It tasted salty; a good salty, though. 

 "It's okay, shh.. Don't forget to breathe. Now, just lower yourself down, John. It's okay."

 With the help of Mycroft to align himself up with the Captain, John felt himself being opened. This was not like with the fingers though, and, he gasped. Courage was thick in his blood, however, and soon he was still pushing down, making a sour face at the strange sensation. It was nagging, but, overall he found that. Well. He liked it. Pleasure tingled low in his stomach, and he leaned back, allowed Greg's strong arms to assist in holding his weight. 

 Deep breaths were accompanied by a long moan from below him, and when the army man peered down, he saw a very delighted quirk to Mycroft's expression. Allegedly, pushing your leaky cock into the body of a virgin was extremely indulging.

 "See? Good, good.. Can you feel him inside you, John?"

 The slowest thrust pushed into the doctor all the way, and Watson let out a muffled cry, nodding with ambition. Yes, God, he very well could, stretching his cavity, pushing against his channel to keep it wide open. A wave of contentment hit him hard, and he sighed, meeting the tiny rut with a roll of his own hips.

 So began to movement. It started languid, with the doctor allowing his body to adjust. Small pushes down, cautious twists to his sensitive nipples, open-mouthed moans. Behind him, Greg assisted in every way possible, one hand wrapped around his own begging length, and the other moving to pinch and grope at John's chest: mostly teasing his teats, and making the skin goosebump by his feathery touches.

 Time progressed though, and innocence morphed to desperation. Sort of like the world they lived in, but, forgetting that, each man developed a hunger. Slow turned to fast, gentle to rough, clean to filthy. John was keening, Gregory was muttering unspeakable dirty words to his friend, and Mycroft remained most in control, lips held down in a silent cry.

 "Need to.. to come, oh, God, 'm so close!"

 It was, surprisingly, the clever politician that attended to John's needs. The entire time he had been most quite, just enjoying the events around him, but now his appetite branched. Long, adept fingers clung to his shaft, pumping up and down the velvety skin. One twist to the side, and every muscle in the doctor's body cease.

 Which, in turn, stole the control from Mycroft.

 Sounds of grunts, groans, and grumbled filled the air, as Mycroft thrusted up impossibly hard, the bed creaking in effort, while Greg pressed up against John, his cock half-rutting on the man's bronze spine, half-fueled by an erratic hand. Cum spurted out when he least expected it, splattering over a certain blogger's back, his arse, his skin. It was a gorgeous mix to his complexion.

 Bliss was lovely. Absolutely stunning. No one dared complain, as the three unlikely lovers toppled over one another, sweat and releasings concocted and painted across miles of flesh. The pleasure remained there, throbbing over their weak bones, and soon, exhaustion captured its' victims. 

 Dragging them into the most lovely rests in quite some time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C'est fini!   
>  This feels oddly rushed, gah. I may or may not go back and edit later. Don't know yet.


End file.
